Ant Hill
by Evilstrawberry
Summary: Joren thinks about why he enjoys others pain so much and what started the obsession. A whyisthebadguybad sort of thing.


Ants

**Disclaimer: Nup, don't own the characters.**

"I pity you Stonemountain. The thing that makes me most angry is that I find it hard to hate you for your actions."

I smirk. The Lump seems to think that a horrible child hood or some traumatic experience tuned me into the person I am. How little she knows.

"Well, I'll quote you on that next time you pull me before a judge to prosecute me."

Her face was blank. "I only accused you of what you did. Just because I don't think it's you fault how you turned out doesn't mean you aren't accountable for your actions."

What exactly _do _you think made me like I am? I have been like this ever since I can remember. I was the kind of child that liked to watch ants swarm over their little hills. Then I would use my fingernail and cut one in half. I used to watch fascinated, as they would struggle to walk. 

They never seemed to die in less then the time it took my eyes to wonder, I would glance up at the sky then look back and they would be dead. Or they would give one last try to get up and keep moving. I liked those one best, it seemed like they were putting on an extra show just for me.

My nursemaid caught once. She had a long talk to me about how it was bad and how I was killing a living thing. I left the talk somber faced and the next day was back at the anthill. What she had said seemed to make it all the more fun!

"Piss off Lump." I spit for no reason except to see if I can get a reaction. I didn't really expect one; Mindelan was made of tougher stuff then that. She kept her mask on and looked at my face.

 I remember, after many happy months spent ant killing I moved on to pulling the wings off flies and other such things. I used to sit there as I watched them struggle and think; did they know they were dying? Did they hate me for killing them? Or didn't they think at all? 

I kept this fascination with pain all my life. I remember once I had a dog. I had really liked that dog; it used to bring a stick back when I threw it. One day my mother sent me to refill it's water bowl. The dog was tied up in a courtyard so it wouldn't disturb some visitors that were staying.

I took the water to him. Then I placed it jut outside his reach. I sat, fascinated as he panted and stained to get at it. I had always taken him for walks and fed him and I remember as I sat there, wondering if he knew me or relished what I was doing. 

A servant finally spotted me and told my mother. She gave the dog water and later gave him away. I was very upset that she had given away my favourite pet and sulked for weeks. 

You don't understand Mindelan. I feel this fascination at the suffering, wondering what it feels like. That's why I liked having your maid kidnapped so much. What would you say if I told you that?

When I thought of the maid sitting there wondering what would happen to her, of you trying to find her and finally having to climb the needle I felt a child like glee. 

I wriggled in my chair and expected my excitement to burst through my skin at the thought that both of you could have fell to you deaths at any moment. It was well worth paying the fine to feel the high I got with the kidnapping even if I didn't do it with my own to hands. 

Though on the outside I was calm and cold, I laughed and wondered inside.

You stand there barley keeping a glare from your face. I don't hate you. I don't even dislike you. I fell the same of you as I do of everything else in the world. Indifference unless I am doing something to make them hurt in body or mind. Even my supposed friends hurt around me, it hurts their pride to have to grovel to stay in my good graces. I suspect they would stop groveling if they thought they could make it without the group protection.

"Gods Joren, what made you do it? What turned you into a kidnapping swine?" 

"_I_ did it to me." I answer with a smirk.

You see, what people don't seem to want to relies is that I am just plain bad through and through. Some would even say evil. And the thing is I don't want to change. I love it being how I am.

I wonder if there's an anthill anywhere near here.

**Authors Note: _Another_ Joren ficlet? Gods I am obsessed…*shakes head* this one creeps me out a little bit. Well the idea in my head does, the way I put it into words doesn't really do the idea in my head justice…oh well, *shrug*she'll be right. *Points at beautiful little button* If you press that button you can help improve my writing by giving me advice or you can just say what ever you like, just please review!!**


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